Cas before the hitchhiker
by jaaz
Summary: What happened to Cas before the beginning of the official story.


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p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"I'd already been here longer than I expected to be. Again. I don't know if it was my timing, that had been off for the last couple of months, or if it was the weird ghosts I decided to track down. Whatever it was, I'd been here only three weeks – one week too long – and I was getting quite bored. The queen bee at this particular school was about as typical as they get. She looked like a model, was completely self-assured and was basically a downright b*tch. (Good thing my mom wasn't a telepath as she would have grounded me for at least three months if she'd heard me use emthat/em word…) Anyway, the rest of the people here weren´t much more special and even the buildings seemed to have a competition to see which one could be the most boring. The only thing that wasn´t average was something I immediately hated; the constant rain. How was I supposed to enjoy my training when every time I went outside I was soaked within seconds? And that there, was the actual problem I had with this town. I hated to admit it, but my mom had been completely right when she'd said it. I probably wouldn't have bothered with the mundaneness of everything around – god knows I never have before – if the weather hadn't made me so cranky. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"Good thing I was ready to take on that creepy teenage-ghost tonight. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"While walking up the stairs, I kept repeating everything I knew about this Don-guy as if it was some kind of mantra./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"emspan lang="EN-GB"Teenage boy, who hanged himself after being bullied for his colour for more than three years./span/em/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"I checked to see if my athame was still tucked away in my pocket – which it was./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"emspan lang="EN-GB"Still lives in his family home; mostly reported seen on the second floor./span/em/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"I felt a killing-calm rush over me and wrap around me as some kind of cosy blanket./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"emspan lang="EN-GB"Killed six boys over the course of forty years./span/em/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"I texted my mom, saying I was in the house and would be back for supper within two hours./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"emspan lang="EN-GB"Isn't very aggressive; doesn't come out often./span/em/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"Within a few steps I'd be on the second floor./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"emspan lang="EN-GB"Leaves most people alone./span/em/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"Then there I stood. in front of the room where half a dozen boys had found their deaths. And I walked in./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"emspan lang="EN-GB" /span/em/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"Dons eyes bulged out of their sockets and his face became ashen. Not only did the boys lips become a sickly shade of purple, but so did a large ring around his neck. His fingers started bleeding and I had to admit that I hadn't seen anything that bothered me as much as this guy did. It wasn't the fact that he looked so creepy – I'd seen much worse things than a hanging – but the fact that he wasn't even my age. He couldn't have been much older than fourteen and already a rope appeared out of nowhere to cover up the circular bruise around his neck. I thought I'd been prepared for this, but I became seriously nauseated when I saw that hate shine out of his eyes. How could somebody that young be so depressed that he couldn't see a way out of his misery? /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"But even though I felt horrible for the way this boy's life was ended, my disgust for having to kill him was pushed away rather quickly when Don came strolling towards me. Boy or not, he was still a killer that had to be put down. And only I could do that. Only I could avenge those lives he had taken and give the boy some rest. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB""I really hate your kind, you know?" Don had a wicked grin on his face, made only creepier by the fact that blood had started pouring out of his mouth – I really didn't want to know where that came from…/span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB""That popular kind of guy who thinks he can get away with everything." With every step he took, his face became more and more feral and less human. The killing-calm I had felt at the beginning of the evening began fading away. That blood wasn't right. The age wasn't right. And the amount of hate couldn't be right either. Every story I'd heard had indicated he'd be just an ordinary ghost. Every scouting I'd done had said the same too. What else had I missed?/span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB""The kind of boy who takes everything he wants and doesn't care about the consequences." He cocked his head to the side and laughed hysterically. emWhat the -/em Okay, the hell with it. I couldn't let him get any closer than he was already and I was good at improvising. Sometimes. When I was lucky. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"With a heavy sigh, I walked out of the house. I'd been lucky today, but I really didn't feel like meeting another surprise-ghost like Don. I did my homework for a reason!/span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"And even though Don was long gone, I could still hear his voice ringing inside my head; em The kind of boy who thinks he can get away with everything and doesn't care about the consequences./em/span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"emspan lang="EN-GB"Did/span/emspan lang="EN-GB" I care about the consequences? I always thought I did the right thing, sending these killer-ghosts away, but, what about emthem/em? What did I do to those ghosts who were once human. Who couldn't do anything about who they were now. Who had once been just like me? /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span lang="EN-GB"I'd have to ask Gideon about that sometime. But in the meanwhile, I'd seen a letter saying something about a hitch-hiker who drove people off of bridges… And I had to admit that it would be nice to have an easy job for once./span/p  
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